Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull signals it’s over for Barnaby Joyce

That was the lament of one Nationals MP this week after Barnaby Joyce was granted a stay of execution from his party room as pressure on the Deputy Prime Minister reached fever pitch.

Joyce, the affable larrikin from Tamworth often hailed as the country’s best retail politician, has found himself in the middle of a political scandal of his own making.

After impregnating his media adviser Vikki Campion with whom he was having a long-running affair, Mr Joyce’s “deeply personal” crisis has become something of a public pickle.

While his staunchest allies are calling for his private life to be left alone, the problem for Joyce is that this private affair is now inextricably wound up with the accountability of the spending of public dollars.

Taxpayer funds were used to grant Campion a promotion in the office of his close ally Matt Canavan, and then again when she was shifted into the office of another MP — even while reportedly still working with Joyce.

Throughout last year while the affair was ongoing, Joyce was claiming family reunion travel allowance for his wife and daughters, while also claiming overnight travel allowance in Canberra, when, presumably, he was also seeing Ms Campion.

Joyce’s office claims no rules have been broken, but they can hardly expect the media and Labor not to pursue legitimate questions of how taxpayer funds have been spent by Joyce and Campion, with whom he was clearly in a relationship, even if not technically his “partner”.

The embattled Nationals leader has also declared that he is living rent-free in a house in Armidale, NSW, owned by a wealthy property developer, who, awkwardly, appears to have also received taxpayer funds while Mr Joyce was agriculture minister.

In question time yesterday, Mr Joyce entangled himself and the Prime Minister in the technicalities of what is required under the ministerial code of conduct and the rules governing the acceptance and soliciting of gifts.

None of the questions being pursued by Labor now relate directly to Mr Joyce’s affair, but instead are focused on questions of propriety.

The Opposition can smell blood, and know that keeping the issue in the media is politically damaging to the coalition.

Government MPs are ropeable that Joyce is digging in, but remain powerless to force a change in leader. They are frustrated that after finally getting some clear air to start the parliamentary year, Joyce has dragged them into a tawdry tabloid mess that shows no sign of abating.

Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull is furious.

And now, it’s clear he is throwing Joyce under the bus.

After encouraging him to take leave next week to reflect on his position, Turnbull has made it clear that he believes Joyce must resign. He said his deputy had made a “shocking error of judgment” with “dreadful” consequences for his family and partner.

It is difficult to reconcile these comments with the fact that so far, Joyce has suffered no consequences for his action, other than considerable personal humiliation.

Turnbull’s decision to effectively block him from being acting prime minister next week is a vote of no confidence in Joyce’s ability to emerge unscathed from the scandal, and a signal to the Nationals that they must act.

While there was a belief that if Joyce could get through the week and allow the dust to settle he may yet survive as leader, there are few MPs who don’t think this is the beginning of the end for the Nationals leader.

The Prime Minister’s intervention may prove to be the final nail in the coffin.

Even if Joyce does miraculously survive the next week, when Parliament returns in ten days time it will be for Senate estimates.

This will allow for a forensic grilling of government officials over how taxpayer funds have been spent on staffing arrangements and travel, ensuring the issue remains in the media at least until the end of the month.

Then, of course, there will be the first photographs of the baby in April, and the ongoing scrutiny of Campion’s travel while employed on the public purse.

Few people believe there is nothing more to see here, as fervently as his supporters and staff would like that to be true.

Joyce could put an end to this sorry saga by stepping down. Instead, he is pigheadedly digging in, blaming the media, insisting the story is of no public interest, and crying that no rules have been broken.

He may strongly feel this way, but surely Joyce can see that this is not the point. The public, as his ally George Christensen said on Wednesday, hate politicians talking about themselves.

What they hate more is the perception that public funds have been used to support Joyce’s lover, that they both have received lucrative perks unavailable to them, and that he believes he should suffer no professional consequences for what the PM says is a “shocking error of judgment”.

Yes, Joyce is not alone in having misbehaved with other women, yes, there are undoubtedly MPs on both sides of the chamber who have had flings with staffers, and yes, there is no doubt that his family and partner are now suffering the ignominy of frenzied media attention.

But the political problem for Joyce is not that his authority is undermined, his trustworthiness now questionable, and his conservative credentials shattered — all of which are true — the bigger problem is that Joyce’s personal life is going to continue to be a distraction for the Government.

Turnbull knows it and fears it, while Joyce is in denial.

After putting his family and new partner through hell, he can yet spare his colleagues the same.

And if an axe won’t do it, the coalition might have to resort to dynamite and blast him out.